


A Final Farewell

by resident_vamp



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resident_vamp/pseuds/resident_vamp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A reflection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Final Farewell

**Author's Note:**

> In my fiction class we were supposed to write 3 voice pieces, one from the POV of a historical figure, one as a fictional character, and one as a current public/pop culture figure. I did the Doctor for my fictional character one.

I am so very old now; I can finally feel it in my bones. I’ve lived for so long that I can hardly remember what I was like when I first started. All I remember is wanting to run away from everything; the rules, the guidelines, the expectation… So I did.   
  
Later I was the cause of the destruction of everything I’d left behind. I destroyed my home; the people, the planet, everything became dust. I was the only one left. I ignore that heaviness in my chest that reminds me of what I’ve done. I fill the void. I take people with me, they’re distractions, you see. When I’m with them I forget what I’ve done.    
  
However, recently, I’ve come to realize I do more harm than good. I never intend to hurt them, but hurt them I do. I sweep them away from their lives with no thought or consequence of the effect it will have on them; or the effect I’ll have when I eventually leave them. See, I never tell them I’m going to leave them. It’s cruel, I suppose, to let them believe that they can stay with me forever, but I’m a selfish man and their happiness is my happiness. I’m so old now that nothing is exciting to me, but through their eyes,  _oh_ , through their eyes it’s exciting again. I see worlds in ways that I’ve never seen them before, all because of the people I take;  _my friends._   
  
Once I leave I try not to look back on them, to check to make sure they’re okay, because I suppose I couldn’t bare it if they weren’t. I’d be responsible. Because, truly, who would want to be normal after seeing all of time and space. Regular life would be so boring and contrite. But they manage, I know they do. I only take the best.   
  
I’ve just come to realize that I’ve done more harm than good. My friends always leave me different than they came to me and sometimes it’s just really not for the better. And it’s my fault. I have to come to realize that now. It’s my fault, always my fault. I am not good, nor great. I am not a hero, the savior they so desperately wish me to be. I am nothing fantastic. I am simply a selfish man who’s tired of being lonely, and now, finally having the ability to admit that, at the  _end_  of my life, makes me realize how much of a coward I’ve been. I remember it once being said to me that despite the fact that I abhor violence and weapons that I create weapons out of the people that love me, because they’re so  _willing_  to do whatever it takes to save me and that’s not right. It’s not right and it’s not fair and I don’t ever think that I could emphasize the fact that I am selfish enough.    
  
All I can do now is accept my fate and go quietly. I’m done trying to help. I’m done trying to not be lonely. I’m done with all of it. This is the end I deserve. I’ve reconciled the fact that my death will be better for the world as a whole. No more lives will be ruined. No more people left feeling like they’ve been abandoned for something else. No more pain for them. I can’t stand to cause more pain, and it is this realization, out of all of them, that is allowing me to walk to my death with my head held high.


End file.
